


5 Times Younghyun Thought About Dowoon's Physique

by heartandseoul (tokyolights), starboybri (starboychoi)



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Confusion, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-06-21 17:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15562671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokyolights/pseuds/heartandseoul, https://archiveofourown.org/users/starboychoi/pseuds/starboybri
Summary: Okay is...very subjective. Physically, Younghyun wasn’t okay: his legs might as well be noodles for how well they were holding him up at the moment, and he feels like he’s running a fever ever since Dowoon decided to go all Hercules on him. He wasn’t quite alright emotionally either, the reason why they decided to go to the bar in the first place.Okay was...kind of overshooting his actual state of being.////Playlist:x





	1. Fast Times At Their Local Bar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teenuviel1227](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenuviel1227/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dowoon rolled his eyes at them, though his grin doesn’t falter. It’s the usual weekend fun time at work, Younghyun figures. Dowoon’s always a little too energetic on a Friday, especially after all his drum lessons are done. It’s the pure, unadulterated joy of working a nine to five job at a school that really pumps Dowoon up. “Really? A short joke? You’re gonna sleep on the fucking street if you keep it up.”

Younghyun had a major problem. Like a gargantuan problem that he didn't know how to solve.

It started with alcohol, as most profound discoveries do. More specifically however it started with Younghyun, Jae, and Dowoon in a booth at a local bar. Younghyun’s face was flushed from harboring the world’s biggest secret in his heart and the excessive amounts of shots they'd taken together. Younghyun’s skirting on the edge of consciousness and sleep, courtesy of horrific insomnia and the plentiful abundance of alcohol. His head has graduated from resting against the back of the booth to the table which didn't matter anyways: both were sticky and practically infused with alcohol either way, but Younghyun preferred resting his head against flesh than wood anyway. So he endured.  
  
Okay so he may have overdone it. Just a smidge.

“Awe Bri,” Dowoon said, “Tapping out? Already?” He makes a face at him. The horribly hidden amusement in Dowoon’s voice gives him away.  
  
“How are you even upright?” Younghyun asked, squinting up at Dowoon. He’s flushed from dancing, tiny black hairs damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead. His smile glows in the dim purple light.

“Yeah,” Jae added on, “You drank more than Younghyun and you don't even look smashed. And there’s less of you.”

Dowoon rolled his eyes at them, though his grin doesn’t falter. It’s the usual weekend fun time at work, Younghyun figures. Dowoon’s always a little too energetic on a Friday, especially after all his drum lessons are done. It’s the pure, unadulterated joy of working a nine to five job at a school that really pumps Dowoon up.  “Really? A short joke? You’re gonna sleep on the fucking street if you keep it up.”

“I don’t need to stay at your place,” Younghyun mumbled, eyes slipping closed once again. Younghyun felt opening his eyelids took more energy than he had and that there might as well have been tiny people pulling his eyelids down. “I’m gonna sleep right here. Right in this booth.”

“Uh huh. Sure you are,” Dowoon replied. Younghyun heard the pitter patter of his footsteps coming incredibly close, followed by his calloused hand touching Younghyun’s exposed shoulder. “I have a hunch that sober Younghyun wouldn’t want to be glued to this sticky table, am I wrong?”

“That’s a problem for sober Younghyun,” he speaks around his yawn, putting his head in his folded arms.

“We also have to work on lesson plans tomorrow,” Dowoon added, “Just in case you somehow forgot that math needs lesson plans.”

“I said what I said Dowoon,” Younghyun sighed, “And isn’t that what Sunday’s for? Lesson plans?”

“Yeah well Jae-hyung is helping me with mine and he’s only available tomorrow. And also. I’d like to relax on my Sunday evening this time around, instead of scrambling to finish lesson plans for the goddamn week.” Dowoon tipped back another shot of soju--he’s going to get so fucked up if he continues, Younghyun thinks to himself. “ If that’s alright with you your highness,” Dowoon rolled his eyes, “And also, sober Younghyun is also hungover Younghyun. And hungover Younghyun is kind of an asshole in public.”

Younghyun has a retort on the tip of his tongue, surely, yet all he’s able to mumble in reply is, “I am not an asshole, you asshole.” And Dowoon wheezes at Younghyun’s definitely well thought out retort. Dowoon silently wrapped his arm around Younghyun’s shoulders and Younghyun tired to protest--he’s grown quite accustomed to his sticky tabletop, thanks ;also there’s quite a real possibility that he’ll fall right to the floor if he were to stand upright --but all that comes out is a noise of surprise as Dowoon grabbed his arm and, effortlessly which was the surprising part, hoisted Younghyun up out of the booth.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck?” Younghyun cursed, a distinct note of wonder in his voice he attempts to kill before Dowoon caught it; judging by Dowoon’s smirk however, he doubted he was successful. “Wait, where’s Jae?”

“Flirting with Sungjin,” Dowoon pointed towards the bar where-- _of course,_ Younghyun thinks--Jae and the bartender were hitting it off. “C’mon beanpole. You doing okay?” One of Dowoon’s arms is snug around Younghyun’s waist, the other is anchoring Younghyun’s arm around his own shoulders. Dowoon’s so unperturbed by the situation that it begins to piss Younghyun off a little. The little asshole could at least pretend to be breathless for a little while at least, but still. Younghyun gave the question some thought.

Okay is...very subjective. Physically, Younghyun wasn’t okay: his legs might as well be noodles for how well they were holding him up at the moment, and he feels like he’s running a fever ever since Dowoon decided to go all Hercules on him. He wasn’t quite alright emotionally either, the reason why they decided to go to the bar in the first place. Okay was...kind of overshooting his actual state of being.

Younghyun wondered how the fuck Dowoon’s managing to maneuver all five foot eleven inches of himself through the bar with nothing but an arm for support, all without a single grunt of effort. He has no idea. Younghyun may be thin, but there’s way more of him than there is of Dowoon, and it’s not like he’s helping either--he’s practically dead weight in Dowoon’s hold. 

“You...fucking...show off,” Younghyun muttered, for a lack of anything better to say. It’s meant to be insulting, but his voice doesn’t get the memo. It’s gotten airy, like Younghyun’s impressed by Dowoon’s strength show.

He’s not impressed, just...surprised.

At least, that’s what he convinced himself


	2. Uh-Oh Spaghetti Nos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Younghyun took another sip--longer, just to watch Dowoon twitch--and follows up with a patient, “Dowoon, why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”
> 
> “Because I like the never ending feeling of disappointment I guess,” Dowoon sweetly replied, “Oh! That’s why I put up with you, just to let you know.”

Dowoon’s right about something: that hungover Younghyun and asshole Younghyun are the exact same, and that he’s less than enthused to be stumbling into his classroom with remnants of a headache and stubble he hadn’t been able to shave. He just barely had time to take a quick shower before heading off, and his hair was still dripping water down the back of his neck. 

Younghyun wasn’t happy about that. 

He makes a beeline for the teacher’s lounge as soon as he arrives on campus, not even bothering to stop and unlock his classroom door. The alluring siren’s call of the coffee machine beckoned him, which has yet to be drained of its energy giving nectar and is blessedly still hot. Younghyun filled his mug and deposits the empty pot back to its place, sighing as he took the first revitalizing sip. Ah, sweet relief.    


Younghyun felt way more prepared for the day ahead, and he adjusted the strap of his bag as he headed to his classroom. He nearly inverted his prize at the end of the doorway when he, quite literally, runs into Dowoon; only his tight grip on his coffee mug  saving him from blowing up at Dowoon. 

“Jeez, Yoon, where’s the intruder?”

“You drank the last of it, didn’t you?” Dowoon asked. Younghyun took a sip from his mug, staying silent. Dowoon’s eyes narrow. “You didn’t make more, did you? Like you didn’t even bother?” 

Younghyun took another sip--longer, just to watch Dowoon twitch--and follows up with a patient, “Dowoon, why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”

“Because I like the never ending feeling of disappointment I guess,” Dowoon sweetly replied, “Oh! That’s why I put up with you, just to let you know.”

Younghyun smiles, nodding his head in faux understanding. “It’s quite alright Dowoon,” he seriously stated, “Kinks are kinks and yours are valid.” Dowoon wheezed, annoyance vanished in the face of Younghyun’s absolute dumbassery. 

“Get out of my way Burger King.”

“You’re lucky I’m into name calling Yoon.” The daily banter exchange quota was filled and both duck around each other, only to run right into each other as they move in the same direction. “Whoops,” Younghyun chirped, taking a step in the opposite direction. It looked like the two are doing some awkward two step-- and okay, maybe he was doing it to piss Dowoon off a little bit. What can Younghyun say, it’s a habit!--until Dowoon laughed and gripped Younghyun’s arms, moving aside and pressing him firmly against the opposite side of the doorway so he can get through.   
  
“You’re an asshole Hyun,” Dowoon called over his shoulder, though the insult is undermined by the jokingness of his tone. Younghyun mumbled his reply, walking back to his classroom all flustered. There’s a familiar heat settling in the pit of his stomach and no alcohol to blame this time. 

  
Shit.    



	3. Rationale Is For The Weak Minded, Apparently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s not delusional - he’s well aware that Dowoon could kick his ass if he ever so chose. He might have a shred more height on him but strength wise Younghyun was ripped, but Dowoon was shredded. Younghyun’s seen enough to know, Dowoon was never hesitant to take off his shirt alcohol or not. Most of the times it was alcohol induced, but that didn't quite matter all that much when the guy was ripped and played the fucking drums for a living.
> 
> Basically what Younghyun was trying to get at was that Dowoon was strong.

Younghyun is a logical man. At least, he liked to think he was. He taught math, a subject where everything was thought out and tried over and over again to ensure correct results. All that meant is that Younghyun isn’t unaware of his newfound appreciation of Dowoon’s physique. Or how Dowoon uses said physique. 

Dowoon and Younghyun had never been the most tactile of friends. Other than high fiving on the way to their respective classrooms, Dowoon and Younghyun were just a few inches short of basic respect and common decency. Dowoon always pushed Younghyun’s buttons, in the best way possible. 

Jesus, why does the very thought make Younghyun squirm?    


He’s not delusional - he’s well aware that Dowoon could kick his ass if he ever so chose. He might have a shred more height on him but strength wise Younghyun was ripped, but Dowoon was shredded. Younghyun’s seen enough to know, Dowoon was never hesitant to take off his shirt alcohol or not. Most of the times it was alcohol induced, but that didn't quite matter all that much when the guy was ripped and played the fucking drums for a living.

Basically what Younghyun was trying to get at was that Dowoon was strong.    
  


Younghyun’s been on the receiving end of it, too.  

Fuck, it's kind of hot. 

It could be that no one else shares the same relationship with Younghyun as Dowoon did either, Dowoon was able to push him around and get away with it. He didn't quite have height on his side, Dowoon is only an inch shorter than him, and Younghyun was highly non confrontational to begin with so he never put himself in a situation where he literally needed to be manhandled out of the room. Jae hasn't even tried that, and they dated for a brief period of time.

Maybe Kang Younghyun had a thing for manhandling. He didn't know. Is that even a kink? It has to be a kink.

Maybe it wasn't even about Dowoon either, maybe Dowoon was the catalyst to this. Not the cause. He can't be, he shouldn't be. 

It's a solid theory on Younghyun’s point, making way more sense than whatever Dowoon could whip up if he were to run this by him. Younghyun just needs to test it. 

Ironically enough, Dowoon gives him the chance.

“Hey Kang, listen to this and tell me what you think,” Dowoon says, pushing him down into his chair the week after the Mishap titled as so because  _ The Night My Sanity Was Tested by The Man of Steel Himself  _ was a mouthful.

“Good morning to you too, Dowoon,” he replies, “You're aware we have kids coming to class in a few-”

“Agh just shut up and listen!” Dowoon repeats, reaching over his shoulder to press the play button. 

Younghyun recognizes the audio. It's one of the demos of their band, Day6, after Dowoon joined when they were in their teens. It was recorded in Jae’s basement in California and they didn't quite know how to mix so the guitars were slightly louder than the drums and bass and--ah, that’s why Jae flirts with Sungjin all the time, he was in their band too Younghyun just didn't remember--it brought him back to simpler times. 

Brought him back to when he had dreams larger than high school math. 

The clip ended, Dowoon looking back at Younghyun with an expectant face. 

“Hyun, we should totally get the band back together, we sounded great back the. We probably still have-”

“And that, dear Dowoon,” Younghyun teases, “sounds like a no.”

“A no? Why?” Dowoon whines, and leans against Younghyun’s shoulder, chest pressing against Younghyun’s back and forcing him to lean forward under the weight. There’s a lot of warmth plastered to his spine. Warmth and some pretty firm pecs.

Is it bad that Younghyun imagines Dowoon folding him into the same position somewhere other than this stuffy classroom, with none of the prying eyes and ninety-five percent less clothes?    
  
“Hyung, you’re not even going to consider? It’s not for me-” Dowoon is saying, before wrapping a secure arm around Younghyun’s middle, “It’s for my children. During the lunch period or your free period. Jae’s agreed, Sungjin’s agreed, even Wonpil’s agreed-” 

“Yeah, well need I remind you I’m thirty-seven and haven’t played my instrument in twenty years Dowoon. Not even once since I started college and especially not now when I’m responsible for teaching,”   
  
“Younghyun please,” Dowoon begs and _fuck fuck fuck_ , Younghyun thinks,  _ it’s too warm and I can feel the heat rushing through my cheeks what the hell? I’m really about to explode.  _ Younghyun’s sure that Dowoon isn’t aware he’s fucking him up before his first class starts, but it doesn’t detract from its effect on Younghyun, not even just a bit. 

“-Younghyun, please? You’re the missing link.” Dowoon’s voice filters back in. Younghyun takes one look at Dowoon.

“I know you’re not gonna want to hear this, but-” he starts, voice faint with remnants of...well, it was definitely something he shouldn’t be encouraging in a school, “I just don’t think-”

“Okay fine, I’ll find someone else. The kids are going to be disappointed-” Was Yoon Dowoon trying to guilt trip him with his sad eyes and shaky, almost crying voice? Cause if he was, it working, “They really wanted to hear us, even said how cool you were. I could hear their little voices Hyun. “Why did Mister Kang not wanna play for me? I thought he was-”

“Fine! Fine, I’ll play. Just let me get Goldie out of storage,” Younghyun sighed, “And what are we even playing?”

“Better Better? Or I Like You?”

“Better Better,” Younghyun looks to him, “If you’re giving me a choice that is.”

“Okay!” Dowoon smiles, “I’m so excited! I’m gonna tell Jae!”

“You do that,” Younghyun murmurs, watching Dowoon’s back as he walks away. He notices that Dowoon’s shirt stretches tight over his shoulders and back, emphasizing his musculature underneath and Younghyun yanks his gaze away, sinking into his chair as he looked at the time with a bitten-off groan. 

So much for his theory.


	4. Yoon Dowoon, Wet Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You like this huh?” Dowoon murmurs, voice raspy and unbearably smug. Knowing, like he’s dug up Younghyun’s deepest, darkest secret and laid them out in front of him. “I didn't know hyung was into being manhandled, but I guess there's a start for everything. Right, big guy?”

Dowoon is staring up at him, lips tilted in a beatific smile. “Younghyun,” he asks, voice low and husky. His hands are curled around Younghyun’s hip, holding them steadily in place, and he sucks in a breath as Dowoon’s thumb slips along the strip of bare skin at his waist band. “How do you want me?”

Younghyun can’t utter a single word. He’s burning, feels awkward and almost comically coltish sitting on Dowoon’s lap, nervous for reasons he didn’t even know. His hands were pressed to the mattress on either side of Dowoon’s head for a lack of a place to put them, and his fingers clench into the sheets as Dowoon uses the grip on his hips to pull him down, rolling up to meet him in a slow grind.

“Is that good?” There’s a teasing glint in Dowoon’s eyes as Younghyun pants above him, teeth sinking into his bottom lips as he pulls Younghyun down against him. Dowoon has a bruising grip on Younghyun’s hips, and it’s good. Younghyun thinks it’s so fucking good and the friction from rubbing against him through their jeans is better.

Dowoon’s head tilts, hands drifting along the curve of Younghyun’s ass, a faint touch not even registered through Younghyun’a jeans, yet it’s enough to get a gasp from his throat. “Like this, Younghyun?” Dowoon repeats, blunt nails scratching at his jeans and building long lines of heat in the denim. “Or maybe like this?”

“Holy fuck,” he breathes, a shiver working down his spine as Dowoon rocks against him, switching their positions in a matter of seconds. His shoulders were pushed into the mattress, hand clutching fistfuls of sheets between his fingers as his head fell back. It’s definitely a struggle to breathe, whines building in his throat as his jeans rub against the swollen head of his cock. The friction was rough and hard, treading a thin border of way too painful.

“You like this huh?” Dowoon murmurs, voice raspy and unbearably smug. Knowing, like he’s dug up Younghyun’s deepest, darkest secret and laid them out in front of him. “I didn't know hyung was into being manhandled, but I guess there's a start for everything. Right, big guy?”

Younghyun nods, bare feet scrabbling against the bed. Dowoon mouth along the soft skin above his waistband and everything feels too much. “Dowoon, fuck. Do whatever you wanna, just please, c’mon-”

Dowoon’s soft laughter fans against Younghyuns’ stomach as it warming the tingling skin, an after effect of Dowoon having his lips and tongue on him. Something just…bursts in Younghyun’s chest, whether from the sound or not he didn't know, and he desperately seek out Dowoon’s eyes. Dowoon looked intent and hungry, almost feverish. He’s hardly broken a sweat, and his bulging biceps as he holds Younghyun in place is seared into his brain.

It’s enough to make his stomach go hot, the need for release building into an unbearable crescendo--and then, Younghyun wakes up.

He stares at the ceiling for twenty seconds, biting back a string of explicit words as he rubbed his temples. He’s hard and straining into a pair of sweats, phantom sensation of strong hands gripping his hip and curling around his thighs making it impossible to settle the rush of heated blood. He holds his breath, trembling pathetically into the darkness of his room.

 _Fuck_ _you_ _subconscious_ , Younghyun thinks, _you_ _fucking_ _win_.

 


	5. Did He Just?

It’s the morning of the performance when Younghyun loses his mind.

He dissociates so badly that he’s brought back by Dowoon snapping his fingers in front of his face and two realizations hit him: one, he’s doing something he hasn’t done in ten years and two: he’d been tuning to an E standard for a good fifteen minutes already.

“Younghyun, hey,” Dowoon says, jostling his shoulder, “You’ve been tuning for fifteen minutes, you good? Do you need replacement strings? I have some in the back room if you need them.” The curl of Dowoon’s hand over his shoulder is warm despite the biting chill of the room. All Younghyun has to do is pretend everything’s fine, just enough that Dowoon would believe it. Hopefully.

The curl of Dowoon’s hand over Younghyun’s shoulder is warm despite the room being chilly. All Younghyun can hope for is that Dowoon doesn't press the situation any further, that he realizes that Younghyun didn't really want to talk and that was it, but something was stopping him--remnants of his dreams remembered vividly, maybe, and some he didn't.Each were the same, conjured to make Younghyun incapable of even glancing Dowoon’s way for a while.

“Hyun,” Dowoon taps on his shoulder, strong enough that Younghyun moves with its force. Younghyun’s pulse flutters, warmth pooling in his stomach and in his cheeks, ignoring the part of his brain that’s screaming at him to stop.  
A bitten off growl of frustration is the only warning he gets before Dowoon is lifting both Younghyun and the chair to place it into the back room. Younghyun can't make it any words, can barely hear his own thoughts over the static in his head.

Younghyun realized that Dowoon had done that so easily, lifted Younghyun like he weighed close to nothing. Another rush of heat rushes to his face. “You’ve been freakier and more concerning than usual, you okay Younghyun?” Younghyun doesn't need to look at Dowoon to know he’s furrowing his brow. Younghyun doesn't lie that look--that look meant Dowoon was calculating, trying to figure out some hidden mystery. “What’s going on?”

“First of all, you're the freaky one and I take offense to the sheer notion of you calling me the freak-weird one,” Younghyun replies, “And two, everything’s fine and dandy my guy.”

Dowoon doesn’t quite fall for it. “Seriously Younghyun,” he says and it’s full of care and concern, so much so that it makes Younghyun’s stomach curdle with a hot flush of guilt. “Something’s up. Is it the performance or-are you okay?”

Jesus fucking Christ, why does Dowoon insist on asking tough questions, he thinks. “It’s-” he falters over the word nothing. It was a lie and Dowoon was going to catch on eventually. “I’m alright Woon. Really. Just trying to figure things out, ya know?”

Dowoon brings the drum stool out to set it right near Younghyun, taking a seat. “C’mon Kang, spill everything. We’re not getting younger.” Christ. “If you need to figure things out, I can help--just so you know, we are friends and we have been for a very long time. You can come to me-”

“It’s nothing--I can’t-” he starts, “I can't talk about it. It now at least, but I will. Okay? Just give me...time?” He definitely can't tell Dowoon hey, I want you to put your hands on me, pin me down. Manhandle me with your strong arms. He can't say that.

Dowoon chews in his lower lip, and Younghyun was preparing for the interrogation of the century. He’ll spill, he knows he will, if Dowoon pressured him enough. But he’s not ready for it.

“Okay,” Dowoon replies, any tension churning in Younghyun’s stomach was released and he tries to grin, hoping it doesn't come off shaky, “Just come to me if you need anything Kang Bra. You don't have to ask.”

“I know Woon,” he responds, “Thanks.”

“No problem big guy, now we gotta preform for the kids. They're outside.”

“Oh yeah, fuck.”

It isn't long until they perform and they're close, but not too close.

But it was close enough to make him burn up a little.

 


	6. "Dude you've totally been checking me out"

Younghyun thought there was going to be a lingering awkwardness, but it never comes. Dowoon doesn't push him for answers, doesn't dig to uncover the truth like some freaky detective. For once, Dowoon seems content by not knowing what's up with him. At least, until Younghyun is ready to put him in the know.   
  
But that doesn't stop Dowoon from trying to piece things together on his own. Younghyun catches him studying him, his expression a mix of careful and thoughtful. Younghyun pretends not to notice.

“Stare at me any longer, Yoon, and I’ll start charging you,” he murmurs, glancing away from the computer screen where his lesson plans were in the process of being created.     
  
Younghyun smirks as Dowoon jumps, putting a hand over his mouth after shooting Younghyun a glare. There's a flush on his face.   


“Shut up,” Dowoon says, no poison or intent to hurt behind it. 

“You wound me young Dowoon,” he returns, resting his chin on his palm, “what's on your mind that you have to be so rude while staring at me?” Younghyun pretty much has an answer to that already: everything had been slightly tense since the concert and Younghyun knows that eventually something will have to give. He’ll have to admit what was weighing so heavily on his conscious. 

“Come over. Tonight.” 

If he had half a brain cell less he’d make a Netflix and chill joke, but considering the state of his dreams as of late, he felt like it'd hit a little close to home. 

He replies with a cheerful, “Sure,” ignoring the sudden lurch in his stomach. It'll be the first time he’s been alone with Dowoon since the concert. “Horror movie marathon?”

Dowoon, that sly bastard, grins, “Of course. You can stay over too, if you want. Unless, you have somewhere to be in the morning.”

Younghyun shakes his head. “On a Saturday? I’m all yours,” he says and where the fuck did his brain to mouth filter go? Dowoon didn't seem to think anything of it, turning back to his laptop screen with a small, “cool,” and goes back to work. 

The rest of the afternoon passes rather dully. With plenty of work to be done writing and answering the questions to his own math tests, Younghyun had been able to keep himself rather busy and pleasantly distracted, but as their time together approached anticipation began to flood through his veins. Younghyun didn't know what to expect, or what he was willing to divulge, or what he was willing to say. Most importantly, however, he didn't know what Dowoon’s response to any of it would be. 

That was the most frightening of all the questions he had. 

There was more than a likely chance Younghyun was driving himself towards the brink of insanity for no reason, of course. This most likely was to be another horror movie night between them, filled with horrible CGI, jests and popcorn flinging. Younghyun could almost convince himself that was the case if he didn't know Dowoon the way he did. Dowoon was curious, obnoxiously so, and once he was fixated on something he doesn't let it go. Younghyun remembers his face during the day of the concert too, curiosity mingling with concern and care. Dowoon knew something was up.

Truth be told, the prospect of telling Dowoon was way more terrifying than any of the movies they were going to watch tonight, but he still wants Dowoon to know. Which leaves him on edge while he drives to Dowoon’s apartment, even though he'd been there a thousand times before, wavering by the door once he arrives. He takes longer that he should, toeing off his shoes and slipping out of jacket. 

Dowoon’s in front of his flat-screen, with the remote from the entertainment console in his hand. “Can you make popcorn? I'll pick the movie,” he asks, the Netflix logo filling the screen. This is where Younghyun would place a joke about Dowoon being the worst host in the universe-- “I came for movies not to do our slave labor.” -- but he's grateful for a few moments alone. He moves to the kitchen , on autopilot, taking down a bowl and some microwaveable popcorn like a million times before. 

He tries to determine the best way to say fuck you carried me out of the bar and now I can't stop thinking about your arms and your chest and how I'm dreaming of you manhandling me down on the nearest surface. Just bro things, right? Younghyun sighs. It would be better --both for his sanity and peace of mind--if he waited for Dowoon’s signal and moved from there.

He cradles a bowl of buttery delight in his arms, finding Dowoon camped out on the couch with the lights off. Younghyun catches sight of the screen and looks inquisitively. “You're feeling brave,” he says, taking a seat. 

  
“Oh, you're being cocky now,” Dowoon says, “but just you fucking wait. I’m finally gonna be able to watch the fearless Kang Younghyun squirm.”   


Younghyun pressed a hand to his chest, voice climbing octaves until it's high and breathy “Aw you picked all these movies for little old me? Woon-ah, I don't know what to say.”

“Shut up and accept your loss gracefully, Hyun.”

The movie starts and Dowoon’s confidence fizzles by he middle of the first movie, right around the moment the father approaches the closet where they know the killer is in, Younghyun would give him credit - Dowoon tries so hard to hide his fear, but the subtle tightening of his shoulders are dead giveaways. And, just like their countless other horror movie nights, Younghyun remained keenly in tune with Dowoon’s unease, a sixth sense to recognizing and stabilizing Dowoon’s fear. Younghyun's surprised to see that the inches between them disappear--it had been so gradual that it hadn’t been noticeable at all, but it’s all he can think about now. Dowoon is warmth, face illuminated by the harsh blue light from the television and, of course, Younghyun is reminded of his dreams: warm and close. It’s a dangerous thought pattern, one he shouldn’t have with Dowoon nearly cuddling him out of fear, but now it’s a train of thought he can’t shake from his head.  

He’s not prepared for the press of Dowoon’s shoulder against his own, and he doesn’t jump although it is a near thing.    


“Did you..jump?” Dowoon glances up at him. His tone lacks the smugness Younghyun expected, considering the goal was to make him squirm . His voice has gone soft, like they’re sharing a secret and they feel like they’re partners in fear, Younghyun thinks, while unnamable things build in his chest, tingling in his fingers and arms. He knows what it is--urges and needs. Desires to do something ridiculous.     


When the big reveal happens Dowoon doesn’t shriek--Younghyun would give him credit--but his hand reaches for Younghyun’s arm and clenches down hard, grip firm and warm through Younghyun’s flannel. There are millions of ways Younghyun could’ve responded--by teasing Dowoon relentlessly in all but one response--but his body decides to take another approach. 

He squeaks. Fucking squeaks. 

Dowoon goes still, “Dude, did you-?” 

“Popcorn! I’ll go fill up the popcorn!” he blurts, fleeing into the kitchen with an empty bowl. The bowl clatters against the ceramic, and Younghyun leans against the counter, squinting against the fluorescents. He’s mentally berating himself for being so god damn lame. 

Not lame, no. Afraid. 

What the actual fuck is he doing?

He didn’t have all that long to dwell; Dowoon’s in the kitchen a moment after, approaching with caution. If that wasn’t already enough to make him feel like garbage, the space Dowoon keeps does the job thrice over. 

“Hey,” Dowoon says, hesitance in his voice that makes Younghyun want to throw up. As young as he is, Dowoon’s never been shy. He liked to confront things even if he didn't know that much about them. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah yeah,” Younghyun tries to smile, desperately grasping for a nonexistent nonchalance, “I'm good. I guess your movie really got to me after all.” Dowoon doesn't smile like Younghyun and hoped: instead,  he looks guilty, his eyebrows furrowing.  

“Hey sorry for crowding you-” he waves his hand toward the living room and laughs, a short burst of awkward laughter and promises to keep his distance of Younghyun wanted to finish watching the movie. “Unless you feel like you wanna go home?” he quietly asks, “or just-Brian, man, could you say something? Make fun of me for something?”

The quiet desperation gets Younghyun to move. Well, that and much more: weeks of longing and wet dreams and the warmth of Dowoon by his side. It's Dowoon's bright smile and the way he looks at the floor the longer he stays silent. It's the inclination to do something reckless: with a vengeance that Younghyun was going to go with. 

“Hey,” Younghyun starts. Dowoon stops pretending there was gold on the floor and met his gaze, brow raised in silent confusion.  “What I'm gonna do is so reckless and dumb,” he continues, “so much so that I'll beat myself up because of it. So stop me, if this is-is dumb.”

Dowoon's about to question him, but Younghyun doesn't let him. He's closing the gap between them, curling his fingers around the younger’s jaw and slotting their lips together. His heartbeat quickens and he's waiting--to be punched, kicked, or kicked out he didn't really know. He knew, however, that he had a few terrifying seconds to appreciate the softness of Dowoon's mouth against his own, the heat of his breath, before Dowoon finally moves-

In. Dowoon pulls Younghyun closer, changing the angle of the kiss before they descend into a pleasant pattern of meet and withdrawal. Younghyun feels the pressure of Dowoon’s arms around his waist. 

Fuck, it felt good. 

Dowoon’s eyes are even better afterwards. “Wreckless yes,” Dowoon says, “but stupid? No.” The breathless cadence in his voice makes Younghyun's heart skip a beat. Younghyun’s laughing response is filled to the brim with relief, so much so that Younghyun feels tears sting his eyes. He pulls Dowoon back in, smiles making it harder to have any type of successful kiss, humor lending itself to soft sighs and the slick curl of Dowoon's tongue against his. What little discomfort there is from Younghyun pressed against the kitchen counter is outweighed by Dowoon’s soft rumbling voice.

“You like this?” Dowoon breathes, lips catching Younghyun’s as he speaks. 

“Kissing you?” Younghyun teases just before pressing his lips to the curve of Dowoon’s jaw, “I tell you I like you one time and you-” 

“No dumbass, I mean you like this,” Dowoon’s hands tighten around Younghyun’s waist before he lifts Younghyun up, depositing him in the counter with one startled breath. 

“Holy-what the heck Dowoon?” Younghyun curses, “Could you warn me next time maybe?” Dowoon doesn't even answer. He grins, all bright eyed and brilliant. He speaks with triumph. “I fucking knew it,” he says, and squeezes Younghyun’s hips. The little meaning that gesture has is clear, and Younghyun goes wide eyed as he processes the last few weeks in his mind: every instance where he'd been flustered by Dowoon's warmth and Dowoon's proximity and his touch. He'd thought Dowoon was oblivious to it all. 

“Bullshit, you knew!”

Dowoon's laugh is loud and bright; Younghyun can feel it through his own chest. “You've legit been staring at me body for weeks,” Dowoon says, radiating smugness that Younghyun definitely didn't find attractive. 

No, not at all.  Younghyun splutters. “I've not!” The lilt of his voice turns it into a question and Dowoon wheezes. 

“Dude, you so have.” His voice dips at the very end, body spotting right between Younghyun's splayed legs, Younghyun's  hands falling to Dowoon's shoulders and unconsciously giving them a squeeze. It's a firm swell of muscle beneath Dowoon's thin t-shirt. And Younghyun groans, in hopeless defeat as well as arousal. 

“I don't have to deal with you when you're in one of your moods, right?” Younghyun murmurs, even as his legs wrap around Dowoon’s waist, guided by Dowoon’s hands curled around his thighs. They probably look ridiculous, Younghyun wrapped around Dowoon like a snake, but fuck it. It's also ridiculously hot, feeling the flex of Dowoon’s hips as he rises to meet Younghyun’s lips.

“You’ll figure it out,” Dowoon breathes, just before slotting their lips together in a sweet, deep kiss.

Younghyun doesn't bother telling him that he already has.   
  
  



	7. News!

Hey guys.

I'm so grateful for everyone who stuck around until the end of this roller coaster of a fic. It was really inspiring to read your comments and see your enjoyment a fic I started writing as a crack fic for one of my friends. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this. 

Anyways, back to reason I was updating this. 

I wanted to let you guys know a few things:

  1. As I've been doing with all my fics recently, I've made a playlist for this story. I've linked it in the main summary of the story, but just in case you didn't see it, I'm gonna link it right here: [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/jodirodriguez46/playlist/0qDsjXwP9wXCgr7KIguZRj?si=BBAnl0QBSuC2_Y5tkSkY8A) 
  2. For all those who don't know, I have a twitter for my fics, just in case you guys want to ask me anything, or request stuff. Whatever you guys want, it'll be there. So follow me [here](https://twitter.com/hearttandseoul) if you'd like. 
  3. I plan on continuing this story in the same format, so look out for it. 



That's all for now guys. Again, I can't thank you guys enough for actually enjoying this fic! 

 

Stay awesome y'all, 

Jordy

 


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